Since the time I was baptized into the Seventh-day Adventist Church
as a teenager, I must admit my faith has teetered. I finally embraced the fact that having a daily scheduled time with God is imperative to my survival.
One out of every four adults you greeted in church last week with an enthusiastic “Happy Sabbath!” could either be suffering from a form of mental illness or taking an antipsychotic drug. What can we do to help?
